Quotable Fragments
by ice princess deluxe
Summary: Extra scenes from 'Quotable Moments' that didn't quite make it into the main story.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Quotable Fragments  
Rating: PG-13 for the most part, mostly for swearing, mild violence, and kissin'  
Note: These little snippets of stories are _not _going to be in any particilar sort of order. I'm using this as a placeholder for any of the bits and pieces that didn't quite fit into the plot from _Quotable Moments _and I'm posting them as they are written. If I do have an idea where certain chapters fit into Joker and Jules' main story, I'll make a note at the beginning.

Note the Second: As of this posting, _Quotable Moments_ has 100 reviews, which is the largest number of reviews that I've ever gotten for any of my stories. Thank you guys so much and I'm thrilled that you've enjoyed reading my story as much as I've enjoyed writing about these two.

* * *

**Elysium, 2176 CE**

"This is _not_ how I wanted to spend my leave."

Henderson's breath fogged out in front of him. "Aww, come on, Shepard. Don't be such a party pooper."

"Yeah," Brown chimed in, reaching out of the pool for a drink. "Whatever happened to the Shepard we knew that wasn't afraid to jump head first into a dangerous situation?"

Juliana glared at them and wrapped her arms tighter around her middle. "She wasn't standing in several inches of _snow_ wearing a damned _bikini_, that's what."

Henderson moved around in the medium sized pool. Or at least that's what the resort managers had _called_ a pool. Shepard would have just called it a hole someone had dug out of the ground. "It's a lot warmer once you get in," he assured her, taking a sip of his beer and then wedging the can into the snow beside him. "Trust us."

"You only say that because hypothermia has already set in. I'm going to have to drag your frozen carcasses out of there and explain to your squad leaders just what happened." She shivered. "For the record, _I_ wanted to head to Earth and go to Hawaii."

Snow crunched behind her. "You're holding up the line!" Vickers exclaimed.

Shepard looked at her friend. "By all means, after you," she said sarcastically, leaning out of the way.

Vickers shook her head. "No, no, after you." Taking advantage of Shepard's off balance posture, she shoved Juliana into the pool. "I _insist_!"

Shepard screamed, bracing herself for icy impact, training kicking in to save her from flailing about at the last second. She clamped her eyes shut, thinking about just how long someone could survive in frigid water before it registered that instead of freezing cold, the water was…warm?

"Geothermal springs, baby!" Henderson crowed once Shepard surfaced, sputtering for air. "You honestly thought we'd pull a Polar Bear Club on you?"

"You people are such _dicks_," Shepard seethed, pushing sodden hair out of her face with one hand and splashing Henderson with the other. "I hate you all."

"Whatever! You know you love us," Brown teased, throwing Shepard a kiss. She rolled her eyes. She and Brown had had an extremely brief relationship back when they had been teens. They'd slept together once, and then the next morning decided that it would be better for them to just remain friends. She hadn't seen him in years and then by pure chance, they were paired together in Infiltrator training. They'd met Henderson and Vickers there as well and the four of them had quickly bonded while rising to the top of their class. The four of them might have been deployed to different squads, but they made sure to meet up for shore leave at least once a year to catch up. This year Vickers had picked Elysium and everyone had been thrilled at their destination.

Well, _almost_ everyone. Shepard _hated_ the cold, but these were her buddies, so she just bundled up and made sure to get the closest seat near their cabin's fireplace.

"Yeah, yeah," Shepard said, wading around until she reached a shelf cut out of the side of the pool designed to act as a seat. Swiping Henderson's beer, she finished it in two gulps. "I guess _somebody _has to."

"What _I_ can't believe," Vickers said, unfolding her towel on a nearby lounge chair, "is that you didn't bring your gun out here with you."

Juliana eyed her neatly folded towel. Normally, her pistol would have been sitting primly atop it. "Hey, be grateful I left Bertha back in the cabin."

"What is it with you Shepards naming your weapons? What did your dad call his old rifle? Maddy? Madda?"

"Matilda." Shepard shrugged. "I dunno; it's just something Dad always did, so it rubbed off on me." Her dad had explained when she was very young that every sniper needed a good weapon they could trust. _And if you trust it, you might as well start callin' her by her first name. Me an' Matilda, we go way back. Almost as far back as my old Gracie_. Unlike her father, Shepard hadn't thought up a name for her trusty sidearm yet, but she couldn't remember a time when Gracie _hadn't_ been holstered at Ian Shepard's hip.

Vickers sighed as she slipped into the water next to Shepard. "We need to schedule leave like this more often," she said, tilting her head back and sinking down until she was submerged up to her neck.

"I gotta say," Brown commented. "I've missed you guys. My squad's okay, but…"

"You don't have your buddies with you." Shepard understood where Brown was coming from. She was the lone Infiltrator in her unit; no one else quite understood the rush she got from sneaking on the battlefield until she got into a prime position, or just how her patience was rewarded after hours of waiting to get the perfect shot. She had a good sense of camaraderie with her current teammates, but it was nothing like what she had during training with the three she was with now.

"Well, here's to us," Brown said, cracking open a new beer.

"Team Badass," Vickers said, holding up her can.

"The Stealth Squad," Shepard added with a wink.

Henderson grinned. "Silent but deadly."

Shepard groaned. "_Seriously, _Henderson? Good grief, no wonder you're still single."

He made an affronted noise. "I'm still single because I want to share all _this_ with the laaaaaadies."

Brown rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's why. Sure."

"Speaking of single," Vickers said, sidling closer to Shepard. "I found a guy for you."

Juliana took a sip and covered her mouth to discretely belch. "Who said I needed any help?"

"Come on, you'll like this guy. He's just your type."

"I wasn't aware I _had_ a type."

Brown laughed. "Sure you do. You fall for the classic tall, dark and handsome. I mean, you _did_ date me, after all."

Vickers snickered. "Yeah, but she dumped your ass."

"It was a _mutual_ break-up!"

Shepard splashed them both. "That was years ago. And okay, so I do like guys with dark hair."

"And beards. At least the last two guys you had been seeing had some sort of scruff going on. This guy has all of those traits in spades, Shepard." Vickers reached over and grabbed the flask she had brought along. "_And_ he's a pilot."

"You're kidding. What would a helmsman want with a grunt like me?"

"Well, technically he's just a relief shift and shuttle pilot right now, but that's just because his commanding officer wants to give him some experience before putting him up the ranks. I hear he's a pretty hotshot pilot, graduated best of his class."

"So _that's_ what you were talking about with Joker?" Henderson asked. "He's stationed with my unit right now. Dude, that guy is…"

"He's what?" Shepard asked, curiosity piqued. "And what's up with the nickname?"

"Haven't the foggiest, but he insists on being called by it. He keeps to himself a lot; doesn't really mingle with even the rest of the flight crew. Don't know exactly what's wrong with him, but he walks around with these crutches and he gets _really_ touchy when you ask him about the braces on his legs."

"Maybe he wouldn't be so touchy if you took the time to get to know him instead of asking him point blank about something he's clearly not comfortable talking about," Shepard noted. Turning to Vickers, she arched an eyebrow. "And you say he's cute?"

"Yeah. I met him on the Citadel when I met up with Henderson. He's right; Moreau wasn't much for talking with strangers, but you know me. I eventually wore him down with my legendary charm."

"Charm?" Henderson asked. "I distinctly remember you staring at him until he got pissed and told you to take a holo because it lasts longer."

"Yeah, well at least he didn't tell me _Do you mind if I name my first child after you? 'Dipshit Knight' has a nice ring to it,_ like he did to you."

Juliana sat up straighter. "Wait, he quoted _Real Genius _at you? I love that movie!"

"See, you two are perfect for each other! Let me send him your omni-tool ID number so you guys can talk old vids."

"I don't know, Vickers," Shepard said dubiously. "I just got out of a relationship and I don't think I'm ready to start seeing anyone right now."

"Then don't see him, just talk and see where it goes from there."

She bit her lip in indecision. "Maybe. Give me a while and I'll let you know."

"Okay, but I'm thinking that you're going to have to move fast on this one. I'd have snatched him up myself if he hadn't been so damned prickly."

"Wow, he's a loner, moody, _and _a grouch. Way to sell this guy as boyfriend material," Brown said. He would have said something else, but just then, the four of them heard a loud _pop_. Instinct had them ducking down at the unmistakable sound of gunfire, except Brown was just a little too slow. "Ow." Almost as if in slow motion, blood began to trickle out of a wound high on his shoulder.

"Shit!" Shepard lunged at him, her hands pressing down on either side of the wound while Vickers and Henderson scrambled out of the pool and helped haul Brown out.

"No one move." The four of them stared up at an armed Batarian. "That was my warning shot. You people so much as move a muscle without us telling you to, my next round goes right in his head."

"What should we do with them?" another Batarian asked as he came up the hill towards them.

"What else? We kill the men and take these two in."

Shepard curled her lip up in disgust at the way the pirate was leering at her. "They'll fetch a good price on the slave market," he agreed, bending down to grab her arm and haul her forcibly to her feet. He shoved her towards the first Batarian so he could make a grab at Vickers.

The two women shared a glance. Almost at the same time, they attacked, Shepard jamming her elbow into the Batarian's windpipe while hauling his gun away from Henderson and Brown, Vickers snapping her opponent's neck.

"You picked the wrong people to ambush," Shepard said aiming the gun at her attacker's forehead. Without blinking, she squeezed the trigger.

"We've got to get out of here," Henderson said, getting to his feet and helping Brown up by his good arm. "There's got to be more where these two came from." As if to prove his point, more gunshots could be heard off in the distance. Screams from their fellow resort-goers soon followed.

"Brown, you all right?"

"I got shot in the shoulder; nothing's wrong with my legs, Shepard. Just get me back to the cabin, I brought a small supply of medi-gel with me." He snatched one of the nearby towels and used it as a makeshift bandage.

The four of them ran towards their cabin, locking the door behind them. "Quick, get upstairs and hide in the loft. They're bound to see the bodies and our tracks." She only had enough time to follow them when the sounds of voices could be heard outside.

"Check the cabin. _Someone_ killed these two; I want to find out who did."

Henderson crouched and sidled over until he reached the small oval window overlooking the back of the cabin. His tactical cloak shimmered as he activated it, the window's curtain carefully pulled back as if by an invisible breeze. He gave two quiet taps to the floor to let the others know how many people were outside. Even with the advance warning, Shepard still tensed when the door to their cabin was kicked open.

"Well?"

Footsteps neared the ladder towards the small loft. The four of them held their breath. "No one's here."

"You sure? Check up there!"

"I'm telling you, no one's here. That space isn't big enough for luggage, let alone people."

Loud noises sounded downstairs. "There ain't anyone here either. Checked under the beds, in the closets; the place is clean."

"Then we'll report to the boss and keep sweeping east."

Since she was the closest, Shepard waited a while after the two scouts had left to climb down and see if the coast was clear. Keeping away from the windows, she signaled that it was safe to come down.

"Good thing those idiots didn't look too closely at our gear," Brown said between gritted teeth, rummaging one-handed in his bag. He sighed in relief when Vickers took the medi-gel he had stashed there and applied it to his injury.

"And it's a good thing they didn't think to thoroughly check under the beds," Shepard added, reaching under hers to retrieve her sniper rifle she'd strapped against the slats supporting the box spring mattress. She gave her rifle an affectionate pat. "Isn't that right, Bertha?"

"They said they were doing an eastern sweep," Henderson said. He sat on the floor and pulled up the tourist map they had all downloaded to their omni-tools when they had first checked in. "We're here," he told them, marking their cabin. "And we heard gunfire from here, which means that the bulk of them are probably attacking from this angle."

"Hard to tell in the mountains though," Vickers commented, joining them on the floor. "Could have been an echo we heard. And we've got more bad news; these guys disabled the main communications tower. I tried our radio to call for backup; we got nothin'."

Shepard shook her head. "Damn it. Somehow, I doubt that this resort is full to the brim with civilian police or security guards."

"So, what's the plan, Boss Lady?"

Shepard picked her head up so she could look out the window. So far, they were still in the clear. "Our first objective is to get that communications tower back up and running. Henderson, where on the map is it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. All I have are the touristy-type attractions."

Vickers' omni-tool flared to life. "The main communications tower should be about ten to twelve miles northwest of here. We might be in the dark with long-range signals, but it looks like short-range omni-tool to omni-tool broadcasting is still working. Uploading the building schematics to everyone's map."

"Okay, what gives?" Henderson opened up his new map. "How did you get this sort of info?"

She smirked. "Like I said, legendary charm. The maintenance guy at the main station is hot, so I sweet talked him into letting me have a copy of the resort's blueprints so I could let him know when and where we could meet up for a little _alone time_."

Henderson flipped through each of the building's blueprints. "One: good work. Now we can map out vantage points in each of the buildings. Two: Vickers, you _hound_. And here you call _me_ a horn dog."

Shepard tugged on another layer of leggings before lacing up her boots. "Okay, that's enough. What sort of supplies are we working with?"

"Slim to none. We've got a couple of energy bars, some trail mix, and a few bottles of water." Brown picked up his bag. "There's a full first aid kit, complete with ten rounds of medi-gel if the going gets tough."

"We've got our two new friends' pistols and whatever weapons and armor we brought with us." Luckily, all four of them didn't go anywhere without at least a lightweight suit of armor, their sidearm, and most importantly, their trusty sniper rifles, so at least they were good on that front.

Shepard nodded. "Good. Suit up; we've got some work to do."

Once out of the cabin, the four of them fanned out, taking to the tree line. "Keep in close range, but stay in Reconnaissance Mode," Shepard whispered. "Remember, it's just the four of us against who knows how many. Our main goal is to secure the communications tower, but if we can help any civilians along the way, we help those that we can. No heroics; we do this by the book, got it?"

"Understood."

"Affirmative."

Brown nodded. "Anything else, Shepard?"

"Yeah, we all get out of this alive." She dropped the all-business tone for a brief second. "Next leave we take, we're going to Hawaii."


	2. Chapter 2

**Tiptree, January, 2183 CE**

Joker leaned his forearms against the steering wheel of his rental vehicle and took a deep breath. It might be a little farming colony in the ass-end of nowhere, but it always felt good to head back home. Powering down, he reached for the rucksack sitting in the passenger's seat and slung it over his shoulders before grabbing his crutches and getting out.

It was weird, but every time he visited, it seemed as if the farmhouse he'd spent half his childhood growing up in was smaller and smaller than he always remembered it being. The lawn was still kept meticulously mowed and the third step up onto the porch still squeaked under his weight, but the haphazardly grown flowers in the front flower bed were new, as was the colorful crazy quilt sitting neatly folded on the porch swing.

"Dad?" Like he had expected, the front door was unlocked. Crime was practically unheard of in a place where every neighbor knew the other by name and unless his family was off-world, the main entry never had a reason to be locked. "Hilary?" He walked down the hall and looked in the family room. A datapad had been left on the sofa, its contents still glowing. _Probably Gunny's,_ he thought. _The girl never shuts things down when she leaves a room._ He slid his pack off his shoulders and left it propped up next to the sofa. Backtracking to the foyer, he hung his beaten up leather jacket on the coat rack. Without thinking, he hung his cap there as well. His mother had never let him wear a hat indoors, and it seemed as if that lesson in good manners had stuck.

In the back of the main floor, the kitchen seemed to be the only room recently occupied. The smells of good food greeted him as he walked through the doorway. Covered pots sat on the antique looking stovetop and a plate of cookies had been placed right next to the bowl of fruit on the kitchen table. Joker's hand hovered over the fruit for a brief second before he snatched up two still-warm chocolate chip cookies.

The kitchen door leading out to the back yard still creaked, just like it had always done. That creaky door had busted him on several occasions when he had managed to sneak out as a teen, and with a grin, he imagined that it would do the same once Hillary got a little older. He stepped out onto the back porch and scanned the area. "What the…"

Okay, rationally, he knew that he had grown up and left home. He was twenty-eight, for crying out loud. It still didn't make seeing his childhood tree house painted a retina-searing pink any easier. _Are those _lace curtains_ hanging up in my old lookout post?_ His little sister had always gotten his hand-me-downs, but _this_…it was going to take some getting used to."Anybody home?"

"Jeff!" A head popped up in the window. Jeff broke out into a huge grin as he watched his sister climb down the knotted rope – the winding access ramp that their dad had built for him to get up to his private fort was untouched, save for a few brightly painted flowers – and run across the lawn until she reached him. "You're home!"

He gave her a one-armed hug and ruffled her hair. "Good to see you too, Twerp. Where's Dad?"

Just as Hilary was pointing towards the greenhouse, their dad came out. Their mother followed, carrying a basket of produce.

"Jeff, welcome home," she said, giving him a tight hug.

"Hey, Mom. I didn't know you'd be here. I thought you'd be still working up on the Station."

She winked. "I took some vacation time." She patted his cheek. "It isn't every day that my son gets to come home for an extended stay."

"You're staying that long?"

His dad got up onto the porch and gave him a sideways hug. "Your mother got promoted. Now she has underlings to do her dirty work, so she can spend more time here at home with us."

His mom rolled her eyes. "They're called _aides_, sweetheart, not underlings."

"Aww Mom, I knew you had it in you to be an evil overlord." Stepping aside, he held the screen door open. "Are those parsnips?"

"Mmhmm. I'm adding them to the mashed potatoes. We're having pot roast, your favorite. Now go clean up; you're just in time to help set the table and wash some of these dishes."

Joker couldn't help the huge smile that split his face. "Man, it's good to be back."

* * *

Dinner around the Moreau table had always been an informal affair. Over the scraping of knives and forks against dinner plates, everyone seemed to talk all at once: their mother explaining how a bunch of the ladies at the Station had taken up quilting, their dad filling Jeff in on the fall's harvest and how well the new greenhouse model was helping to jump start the spring crops, and Hilary gushing about her newfound green thumb. Apparently the crocuses in the front flower bed were her doing.

For his own part, Jeff just sat back and took everything in. It had been a long time since he had gotten a chance to come back home on leave and he hadn't realized just how much he had missed his family. He kept in pretty close contact via messages and the occasional vid-conference, but there was something about being there in the same room with everyone that made a long-held knot of tension across his shoulders loosen. Before serving dinner, his mom had flipped on an old playlist of music. The violin strings from Pachelbel's Canon in D Major could be softly heard underneath the conversation. If this was the same playlist that his mother had always played during holiday dinners and special get-togethers with neighbors, then a piece by Wagner would be next.

"So, have you heard about your next assignment?" his dad asked.

"Yeah. I'm going to be the helmsman for the SSV Normandy."

His mother beamed. "That's wonderful news! We've heard so much about that project at the Station; it sounds exciting."

"It's still in the building stages, but I got to go on the bridge before I left. She's a beauty; I'm gonna make her dance." His chest puffed out at the memory of walking aboard for the first time. He'd never really believed in love at first sight when it came to ships, but the Normandy proved him wrong. "I've got two weeks before I have to report back and then a few months before she's ready to fly; I can't wait until we get to take her out."

"And Captain Anderson will be your commanding officer?"

"That's right."

Hilary piped up. "Is it true that Commander Shepard will be on board?"

He shrugged. "That's what the rumor is. No one knows for certain, but I guess I'll find out during our shakedown run."

She twirled her fork into her partially untouched mashed potatoes. "She's so awesome! I want to be like her when I grow up." She sat up straighter in her chair. "Do you think you can get me an autograph?"

"I'll try, but I'm not promising anything." In all honesty, he didn't know much about Shepard except that she was a huge war hero from the Blitz. The name sounded vaguely familiar, like someone had mentioned her to him years before, but he could be mistaken. All he really knew was that she was an N7 Infiltrator class Marine that had grown up on ships her entire life. He hoped that she wasn't like some of the other Spacer Brats that he'd run across that tended to look down their noses at Colony Kids like himself, but if she was, there really wasn't anything he could do about it but act professionally and keep his distance. On the shuttle ride to Tiptree, he had pulled up one of the interviews she had given right after the Blitz just to see what she had looked like. His first impression of Shepard was that she was pretty cute, even if she was bruised and had a still-healing cut bisecting her eyebrow and a gash across her cheek. She and another woman had looked petite standing next to two other Marines that were at least a head or two taller than they were, but her bio on the extranet said she was five foot five. There hadn't been much out there anyway; it seemed that while she had risen up in the ranks, she had managed to keep herself out of the media as much as possible.

Not that he'd done any in-depth snooping or anything. He was just curious as to who he'd be dealing with.

Since his mom had cooked and Jeff had helped set the table, tradition dictated that his dad and little sister would do the cleanup. Even though it was cold, Jeff found himself sitting on the front porch swing and staring up at the sky. It was a clear night; the stars were shining brightly overhead.

"Beautiful evening," his mother commented, handing him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He had to smile at the marshmallows she had topped both their mugs with.

"It is."

She sat next to him. "It's so good to have everyone back at home. I've missed this."

He took a sip. "Yeah, me too." He leaned against her. "You ever think about retiring and coming back here?"

She scoffed. "Jeff, I'm only fifty. I still have quite a few years left before I can even _think_ about retiring."

"Then what about quitting?"

She gave him a puzzled look. "Whatever brought this on?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I've…" he cupped his mug with both hands. "I've always felt that I was the reason that you and Dad never had a proper marriage, why we've never been in the same room as a family for more than a few days at a time."

"Oh, honey, of course not. Sure, I took the job at Arcturus Station to help pay for your medical expenses, but we _never_ thought that." She slipped her arm across the back of the swing and held onto him. "It was different at first, especially when Hilary came along, but it's worked out well. I love my job, your father loves his, and we have two wonderful children to brag about."

"And you don't regret anything?"

She shook her head. "Not one thing. If I had to do it over, knowing what I know now, I wouldn't change a thing." She paused. "Well, maybe that unfortunate shoulder pad fashion craze I went through during the 2160's, but other than that, I'd keep everything the same."

Jeff set his mug on the porch railing and hugged her. "I love you, Mom."

"And I love you too. Now tell me, what brought this up?"

He sighed. "I saw Becca at the Citadel." Even though they were sitting close on a two-person seat, it felt as if he had put a considerable distance between them. "She got married. She's pregnant, too."

"Jeff…"

"What the worst part was is that she saw me too." He remembered the look of startled recognition in her eyes at the way that he had good-naturedly waved. His hands curled into fists at what had happened after. "She looked…_guilty_, like she thought I'd be mad that she had moved on." She hadn't even returned his wave; she just quickly turned around and walked the other way.

"I never liked that girl."

He laughed. "Whatever, Mom. You were head over heels in love with her until you found out that she had dumped me because she didn't want her kids inheriting Vrolik's." _Dump_ was too harsh of a word to use for what had happened between them. After explaining her reasons for refusing his marriage proposal, she had quietly gathered what little of his things that he had left scattered around her apartment into a box and helped him take it to a cab.

In the span of fifteen minutes, a two-year relationship had dissolved like it had never existed in the first place.

"How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. At first I was pissed, but now…I don't really feel anything. I mean, we broke up five years ago; it's ancient history."

"And yet you've never mentioned seeing any other girl since."

"Maybe I'm playing hard to get."

"Son, I've known you for twenty-eight years. You've _never_ been able to lie to me. Don't start now."

Jeff reached out and grabbed his mug from the railing. "What if I'm not meant to find anyone, Mom? I mean, look at my track record. I haven't been able to keep a girlfriend longer than six months before they jump ship. The two year thing Becca and I had was a fluke."

"If you keep thinking like that, then no, you'll never find anyone. And maybe if you started dating girls with more _character_, you'd see that not every woman is as shallow as the ones that let you go."

"Geez, Mom. Way to be brutally honest."

"I'm your mother, Jeff. It's part of my job description." She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, plus you're smart, talented, and handsome. Mark my words, one of these days you're going to find someone that will love you for who you are. And when that happens, she won't _ever_ let you go."

"You really think that?"

"Of course I do. It happened for me with your father, and you're the spitting image of him. Flex that Moreau charm a little."

He smirked and hugged her back. "It really _is_ good to be home, you know," he said.

"And it's good to have you home, even if it's only for a little while." Standing up, she held out her hand. "Come on, it's getting too cold out here. Let's go inside."

* * *

I was looking around the Wikia to see if Joker's parents had set names, but I couldn't find anything. Yay, clean slate to work with! I also saw that the timeline notes that the Alliance and the Turians begin building the Normandy the same year that the events of the first game occur. Maybe they've streamlined contract procedures and construction build times, but I'm thinking that less than one year for a state-of-the-art frigate is still pushing it. (Then again, shakedown runs are for working the bugs out of the system, so maybe that's still on point.)


	3. Chapter 3

**SSV Fuji, 2165**

"All right, tell us what happened from the beginning."

Juliana held a towel against her mouth. "Philip was picking on Naomi, so I told him to stop."

Ian Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Philip is telling everyone that you punched him first."

His daughter scowled. "I wouldn't have punched him if he hadn't have shoved me."

Behind them, Captain Jacobs crossed his arms. "So you're wanting us to believe that _my_ _son_ is picking on other children and then you decided to put a stop to it yourself by starting a fight?"

Juliana's eyes blazed. "But he is!" She let go of her towel and showed off the cut on the left corner of her mouth. "And he doesn't even have the guts to hit a girl with his own fists! He used a piece of scrap metal instead!"

Ian dabbed at her still bleeding mouth with his handkerchief. "If this is true, we want to know why you didn't come to either of us with this information. Why did you go after him yourself?"

She looked away. "I didn't think anyone would believe me. He usually beats kids up in places the guards don't patrol and he picks on the ones he knows won't tell on him. Naomi's my friend; I couldn't just stand around and let her get hurt."

Captain Jacobs uncrossed his arms. "I wanted to get your side of the story before I came to a decision, Juliana. I've already spoken with your friend Naomi and the officer who discovered and broke up your fight." He paused and looked at Ian. "While I don't condone fighting on my ship, I believe you did the right thing at the time. Philip is a lot bigger than you; you put your friend's safety before your own welfare. I'm ashamed of my son's actions and I want to apologize to you for not realizing what he was doing.

"Believe me, Philip will be apologizing to you in person and his punishment will be severe. I raised him to treat others with respect and he has been ignoring my lessons. I want to ask you, Juliana, what do _you_ think is a fitting punishment for his crimes?"

Juliana looked from the Captain to her dad, then back again. "I think whatever you decide would be enough, Sir," she said cautiously. Looking at her dad again, she sat up straighter. "But I want him to know that there are people that won't take his bullying. Now that the rest of us know that someone is willing to stand up to him, he's going to have a harder time pushing us around."

Captain Jacobs nodded. "I'll be sure to let him know." He clapped Ian on the shoulder. "Your girl has a good head on her shoulders. I see leadership potential in her; you should be proud."

Ian nodded. "I am, Sir." He grinned at Juliana. "Damned proud."

Juliana watched as the Captain left the medical bay. "Am I in trouble?" she asked, once she and her father were alone.

"Nah," he replied, pulling out a first aid kit. "I sure as hell know that you're not in trouble with me." He dabbed a pad of gauze with antiseptic and pressed it to the cut. The ragged edges bubbled and he winced in sympathy, but he was quietly surprised that she didn't cry out. He'd seen grown men react to the stuff worse than his daughter's short hiss of pain. "This is probably going to scar."

"Good."

He tilted his head. "Good?"

"Yeah, so when I get bigger and people ask about it, I can tell them that if they thought this was bad, they should have seen the other guy."

Laughing, he took a wet cloth and cleaned away the drying blood that had dripped down her mouth and chin. "Now, let's see the damage on your hands." Clearing a space on the gurney Juliana was sitting on, Ian boosted himself up to sit at her side. Taking her right hand in his, he cleaned her skinned knuckles. "What happened here?"

"I hit him in the mouth." She shut her eyes tightly when her dad poured more antiseptic on her scrapes.

"And what did I teach you about fighting?"

"Go for the body shots," she recited. "Hitting someone in the face will up the chances of you breaking your hand." She cracked open an eye. "But he would have hit me again and his face was the closest target, Dad." She had been aiming for his cheek, but Philip ducked his head down and her knuckles wound up skimming his teeth before she could correct her move.

"I'm just glad that there aren't any tooth fragments in your hands," he told her. "Your mother…"

"She's gonna be mad, isn't she?"

"For a little while, maybe, but then I'm betting she'll be proud of you for standing up to a bully." He picked up her injured hand and kissed her fingers, just like he used to when she was five and she came to him with skinned knees. _I'll kiss it and make it better,_ he'd told her, and it had always been enough to stop her tears. His little girl was eleven now. It wouldn't be long until girlish giggles would give way to embarrassed teenage admonishments of _Sheesh_, _Dad_ accompanied by rolled eyes. He hated the fact that she was growing up so quickly, but at the same time, he was pleased to get to see the person she was shaping up to be. "Just like I am."

"Really?"

"Really." Letting go of her hand, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tucked her snugly against his side. "You think I was telling the Captain I was damned proud just to hear myself talk?"

Juliana beamed as best as her split lip would allow her to. "I love you, Dad."

He kissed the crown of her head. "I love you too, my Julie-Girl." Hopping off the gurney, he put the first aid kit away. Tucking his hands underneath her arms, he lifted Juliana and then set her on her feet. "Now, did you finish your homework?"

"Yes, sir."

"And all your chores?"

"Yes, sir. Before dinner."

"Good. Then let's head to the exercise room. It's time we moved from basic self-defense to some more advanced techniques." He looked at her sternly. "I'm not saying that you should take matters into your own hands all the time if something like this ever comes up again, especially if you can inform an adult of the situation first. There are proper channels to go through with stuff like this, and I want you to follow the rules, is that clear?"

She nodded. "Absolutely clear, sir."

Ian looked down at her and marveled at her serious expression. She might have her mother's high cheekbones and flame-red hair, but it was like looking into a mirror at his daughter's blue eyes. He reached out and ruffled her hair, thinking that even with inheriting his stubborn looking chin and slightly squared jaw that she was going to grow into a strikingly pretty woman. _Gonna haveta beat boys away with a stick when she gets older,_ he thought wistfully, wishing again that he could keep her this age forever.

"Then come on, Shepard," he said, clearing his throat and ruffling her hair again, just to hear her squawk indignantly. "Let's teach you how to throw a punch where you _won't_ get a fist full of teeth."

* * *

Expanded the scene that was floating around in my head during chapter 18 of QM where Shepard was explaining to Joker how she got the scar on the side of her mouth. Juliana played out as roughly 75% Paragon most of the time, so I'm thinking that she'd do the right thing and stick up for her friends at an early age.

While we're given some info on Spacer!Shepard's mother, Shepard's dad is pretty much a blank slate. I might have missed something explaining why he's not in the picture, but for this story, Juliana's dad is around. For reference, I'm picturing him looking a bit like a mix of 60's era Clint Eastwood and Jim Steranko era Nick Fury (especially the splash panel of _Strange Tales #168_ from May of '68.) There may be more of Dad!Shep in the future, more than likely ME3 centric stuff.

I didn't find much information on the SSV Fuji except that it was an older Everest-class dreadnaught. The newer Killmanjaro-class ones have 2180's construction dates, so I'm playing around with info and thinking that the Everest-classes were around in the 2160's. I'm also playing fast and loose with the probability of these types of Alliance vessels having kids on board, but maybe the Fuji wasn't assigned to any dangerous parts of the galaxy at the time.


	4. Chapter 4

**SSV Normandy, 2185 CE**

"Hey, I'm headed to this restaurant Liara said was good; wanna come with?" Spending a couple of days on Illium in between fighting Collectors was a good time to work on installing the extra firepower upgrades Garrus had been investigating, and it meant that all the injuries Shepard had gotten during the last fight had a chance to actually heal properly. She would have been resting in her cabin, but she had taken a few stimulant shots in a non-doctor sanctioned attempt to help speed along the healing process and now she was jittery and ready to stretch her legs outside the ship.

Jeff looked behind his shoulder just in time to see a Shepard-shaped blur pop up next to him. "You're wearing my shirt."

Shepard grinned unrepentantly. "I am? Guess it got mixed up in the laundry." She plucked at the hem. "Do you mind?"

He eyed the way the band logo stretched over her chest and how the fabric settled across her hips. _Oh, to be that shirt…_ "Nah. Looks better on you anyway."

"Never pegged you for a fan of the Flaming Zombies," she noted, flopping in the co-pilot's seat. "Saw them in concert once when I was nineteen."

He sat up straighter as he did the math. "Wait. Was that the Slippery Slope tour they did on Earth?"

"Yep. My old Infiltrator squad was on leave when they played in…"

"Dallas, October 18th."

Her eyes widened. "No way. You were there?"

"I think I still have the ticket stub somewhere. Do you remember what seats you were in?"

Shepard laughed. "_Technically_ we were supposed to be in the nosebleed section, but Vickers charmed her way up to the middle area near the stage. You?"

"The middle area near the stage." He laughed with her. "Just think; we didn't know who the other was at the time, but we still managed to be within feet of meeting." He looked at her when he realized she had gotten quiet. "What's up?"

Shepard could feel the blush burn her cheeks and neck. "Um, how much of that concert do you remember?"

He shrugged. "I don't know; it's been over ten years since then. I do remember that the music was good, but then again, the 'Zombies were always better in live venues instead of recording studios. The beer was overpriced, but the vendors turned a blind eye to those of us that at least _looked_ old enough to be legal. Nothing else really comes to mind, except…"

"Except what?"

"Well, there _was_ this one commotion a few rows down. Security was called in and some people got hauled off, but…" He stared at the way she shrank against the seat and covered her face with her hands. "That was you?"

She nodded, still hiding her face. "Henderson snuck in a few flasks of the good stuff. We were going to mix it with soda, but never got around to it. Vickers and I hadn't eaten beforehand, so…"

"You got kicked out of the concert for being drunk and disorderly? Jules, you _renegade_, you."

She scoffed. "Joker, if being drunk and disorderly was enough to get people kicked out of a concert like that, then the entire arena would have been empty. And _technically,_ we didn't get kicked out."

"There you go with the technicalities again. Then if you didn't get kicked out, what gives?"

"The band asked us to wait behind stage for them." Here, her blush grew even redder. "Vickers and I were distracting the bassist and the drummer when we flashed the crowd."

Jeff sat in stunned silence. "You…boobs?" _Oh, that was eloquent, Moreau._ He would have said something else, but his brain short-circuited at the sudden flash of memory: a girl, one or two rows away, with copper colored hair tumbling down her back in waves being boosted up by some guy she had been with. It had lasted less than a minute, but he had gotten a good side view of pale skin and perky breasts before her shirt had lowered.

The image had stayed with him that night long after memories of the actual concert had faded. Funny, but back then he never thought to look at the face those breasts had belonged to.

Shepard groaned. "_Please_ tell me that you were too far back to see details."

_No dice, Jules. I was close enough to count freckles._ He could see how uncomfortable she was, so he decided to tuck that refreshed memory away for future contemplation. "You lucked out," he lied. "All I saw was this huge mountain of a guy getting hauled away. Never even saw you."

She visibly relaxed. "That would have been Henderson. He's so tall that he makes some of the biggest drill sergeants look short. Vickers, Brown and I always joked that he'd give his location away on the field because his helmet could clear the tree line."

Joker leaned against his armrest. "So, about that invite backstage. Did you take it?"

She shook her head. "Hell no. Brown was already freaking out because while we had leave to be there, we most _definitely_ didn't have leave to be stinking drunk _and_ out of uniform. If we had been ID'd by any Alliance personnel in attendance, the punishment would have been severe." Shepard stretched. "So we hauled ass out of there, went back to our hotel, and sobered up in time to look presentable when we reported back in the next day."

"Wow. Sounds a lot better than my experience. Spent a fortune on the seat, paid out the nose for beer, _and_ missed a babe showing off the goods." He shook his head in mock disappointment. "At least you have a story to pass down from that night."

She rolled her eyes. "Ah, yes. I can just see it: come close kiddies and Grandma will tell you about the one time she _almost_ became a groupie, but chickened out at the last minute." Rolling out of her seat, she put her hands on her hips. "Anyway, back to my original question. There's a place off the beaten path Liara said had killer kabobs we had to check out, even if they are made from vat-grown beef. You want any?"

Joker sat there and looked up at her. He watched her mouth move and distantly heard her mention something about food, but all he could really think about was the fact that she was wearing _his_ shirt and wondering if she was wearing a bra or not underneath.

Shepard made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat when she saw just where his eyes were fixed at. "Honestly, Jeff. I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I was drunk, young and stupid. Me flashing anyone again is never going to happen."

"Not even if I ask nicely?" He held his hands out in front of him when she reached over and tugged the brim of his cap far down his face. "Hey, no injuring the helmsman! Who else will you get to fly this ship?"

"I'm sure between the both of us, Garrus and I could figure something out," she teased. "Now come on, I'm starved. We're talking _real food_ here, Joker. Not some of the stuff Gardner's trying to pass off as food." That reminded her: the next time she was on the Citadel, she was going to have to make a point to get some better supplies. Even Alliance mess halls had more flavor going on than what Cerberus had provided them.

"Aww, but here I was looking forward to playing Guess the Mystery Meat tonight." Getting up, he rolled his neck to get rid of a sore spot. "But go ahead; twist my arm, will ya."

Juliana smiled up at him. Moving aside to give him room, she walked with him towards the airlock. "I knew you wouldn't let a girl down."

"That's me. Chivalrous to a fault; I'd even give a fair damsel the shirt off my back if she hadn't stolen it first."

She gave him an innocent look. "Can I help it if your things got mixed up with mine? That's the price you pay when you pair up for laundry duty with me, Moreau."

He shook his head, but moved until he was able to link his fingers through hers. "Let me see: hot Commander-type lady wearing my clothes? I think I can live with this arrangement." That and the fact that now he had an image of her wearing nothing _but_ his shirt, which stirred up all sorts of feelings that were better left alone if he actually wanted to pay any sort of attention to tonight's dinner.

"_Hungry_ Commander-type," she corrected.

"Get steak sauce anywhere on that shirt and it'll be _dead_ Commander-type," he cautioned, even if his warning look was paired with a wide smirk.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Tugging on his hand, she winked up at him. "Now come on, let's go."


End file.
